Mark is Calling
by M.K.Namikaze
Summary: Sequel to Jack is Calling. The air was fresh, birds chirping a good morning song as the sun peaked over the city skyline. Cars were just starting to bustle about the metropolis below. My name, is Mark Edward Fischbach, and this is how I ended up on a roof, wondering if I should kill myself or not. Trigger warning, suicide, gay bashing.


The air was fresh, birds chirping a good morning song as the sun peaked over the city skyline. Cars were just starting to bustle about the metropolis below. I was sitting on the roof of a skyscraper that I found with roof access.

I looked to my right, the early light glinting off the metal blade I had brought up. I was reminded of a person long since gone, and one that had recently been found dead. Both came with a pang of pain.

My name, is Mark Edward Fischbach, and this is how I ended up on a roof, wondering if I should kill myself or not.

* * *

It was around seven in the morning when I saw Sean's Skype icon appear on my screen. I smiled widely, as we hadn't talked in a long time.

"Hey what's up Jack? Why'd you call?" I was kinda curious, but not really as we were still good friends.

He took a deep breath, seemingly debating something. "Well, you know how we've been friends for a couple years now, right?"

I tensed even as I nodded, after all, he wasn't wrong. "Sure, What's up?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to tell you something important." He sighed.

I relaxed a bit, even though I was still concerned. "Well what is it? It can't be that bad."

"Haha, yeah." He looked down. "The thing is, I'm not exactly..." He trailed off mid sentence, making me more worried than before.

"Not exactly what Sean? You can tell me anything." I urged him as he shut his eyes.

All that came out was an inaudible whisper. The only reason I could even tell he said anything was because of his lips moving.

"Sorry, I couldn't quite catch that." I asked, dreading what would come out of his mouth if he was this worried about it.

"I'm gay." He repeated.

My brain quit.

Fucking quit.

Not like, 'oh I'm just having a brainfart,' it as a complete system failure. I swallowed when I realized he was speaking.

"Ma-mark?" His voice sounded like he was gonna cry. And suddenly, I felt anger build in me. I'm not sure why, but it just grew and grew, and I took it out on what seemingly caused this. Sean.

"Don't call me that." My voice was colder than I remember. Was it always like that?

Sean looked upwards, and I glared at him harshly. I remember my heart shredding itself apart as I continued to speak. It was almost as if it wasn't even me there anymore.

"You're a fucking fag. Don't ever talk to me again."

He had tears in his eyes after I finished. "But Mark!"

"Goodbye." And with that, I closed the Skype tab.

And immediately punched the wall beside my computer.

* * *

I woke up on the floor of my recording room, seeing what looked like somewhere after a tornado happened. The only place untouched was the area the camera could film.

At least my rage induced mind still had some sense. Which brought me back to what had happened earlier.

Being met with a brick wall after accepting Sean's call, I groaned at a pain in the back of my head. I touched the back of my skull, bringing it into view when I felt something wet.

"Shit, hopefully I didn't give myself a concussion."

I sighed pulling myself out of the pile of random crap that I decided was sleepable on. A quick survey of the damage did not give me hope.

"Fuck, this is pretty bad. The hell happened?" I decided it could be figured out after I cleaned up my head. When I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I could see an assortment of cuts and bruises littering my arms and chest, my shirt now having multiple rips in it.

I pulled off my clothes carefully, stepping into the shower, hissing when the water hit my cuts.

After I had washed up, i got out of the shower, bandaging my head, making sure that it looked unnoticeable. People overreacted every time something happened to me, or anyone remotely well known. There weren't any cuts on my face, so if I wore a long sleeved shirt it looked completely normal. Satisfied, I went to go clean up the mess I had made.

I worked through the room, throwing out a lot of soundproof padding that had been ripped directly off the wall, as well as carpet i had ripped of the floor. "The hell made me so mad? This place is totally freaking wrecked!" I sighed, knowing that I would have a lot to explain to Matt and Ryan. They were out for the week, so I had time to come up with a good lie, or fix it completely.

An hour or two later, I had done all I could to clean it up. Then I remembered that I was a youtuber, I had a schedule to uphold! I glanced at the computer clock. It was already four in the afternoon, and I hadn't uploaded my noon video. Quickly I sat down in front of my computer, going to upload a prerecorded video.

Even though it was only up for a couple minutes, comments were already flooding in.

"Thank god I thought he was hurt or something!"

"I was stating to get worried!"

"Hope he doesn't do something like this again."

I smiled, the majority of communities on YouTube were very positive, and I was glad that they kept it that way. I never really focused on the hate, but it wasn't all that visible anyways.

"I should probably do a vlog or something later, just for a quick update. My recording room is pretty trashed still, it's gonna take a while to fix." I felt my stomach growl, realizing that it was almost dinner time and I had skipped lunch.

I opened the door to my recording room, getting tackled by Chica when I did. I don't think she heard me leave to the bathroom earlier. I grinned, cuddling with her on the floor for a bit until my stomach grumbles again, and I made my way to my original destination.

After lunch, for me and Chica, I went back to work on videos, and my normal routine. Life was normal, nothing was out of place, other than the recording room.

Until a few days later.

* * *

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting heavily as I sat up in bed, the windows letting a breeze the cool my skin. I wanted it to be a bad dream, but no such luck.

I finally knew why I had torn op my recording room.

I had hurt Jack. I had hurt Sean. My best friend. My heart broke as I remembered the exact moment his heart died in his chest as I ridiculed him.

I don't even know why I had done it, as I was pansexual myself. I wasn't completely straight, yet I had still mocked him about his sexuality. My head hung in shame, knowing that since he hadn't contacted me, he probably didn't want to be friends. I didn't blame him, I was a jackass and nothing would change that fact. Even so, I felt my heart grow heavy knowing those things.

On the off chance that he would still listen to my apology, I did the same thing I had been doing since college. I sat down in front of my camera, and talked.

"Hello everybody my name is Markiplier, and today's video is directed to a specific person. This is someone you guys probably all know, his name is Jacksepticeye, and was a good friend of mine." I could feel my eyes water at the mention of his name, as the words came pouring out.

"Now before you guys all freak out, he's not dead, I just fucked up, and badly. Which is why I said he was a good friend. He Skyped me a few days ago, and he trusted me with a secret that I mocked him for. I guess it was just shock, but I'm not making excuses. What I said was horrible, no one should hear that from a friend, or anybody. The point is, I'm sorry, Jack. I don't even have the right to to call you Sean anymore. I'm really sorry, and if you don't want to be friends, I won't blame you." By now some tears had managed to escape my eyes.

I had to take a steadying breath before I did my outro. I decided to go to Jack's channel, only to gasp as I saw what the latest video he uploaded was titled. It was called, 'Taking a Break' and I clicked on it as I felt more tears leak out of my eyes.

His eyes. The normally clear, beautiful blue orbs, were clouded with emotion and surrounded with red, as if he had been crying a lot recently. "He probably has." I said to myself, sinking deeper into sadness.

It was a short video, only being two minutes long. It explained that he was taking a break from YouTube as he had no energy to be making videos. I had started balling after the video ended, knowing that I didn't deserve to be called a human being after what happened.

It had been posted yesterday, right after Mark had finished with YouTube for the day. I I decided that I needed to talk to someone, and opened up Skype. I winced as I saw Jack's icon in the recent tab, hitting the call button for Bob.

It rang for a full minute before saying that Bob was unavailable. So I tried Wade. Then Matt. Ryan. Not one of them answered.

I decided that if real people wouldn't talk to me, then I would find something else to do. Namely, drinking. I knew it was a bad idea, but I honestly couldn't have cared less.

The clerk at the liquor store gave me an odd look, probably seeing that I had been crying, but shrugged after seeing my I.D. I made it home, opening my first beer.

The rest of the night, was honestly a blur.

* * *

I woke up to about a million twitter notifications.

It was about my recent video, but I didn't care, as one of them was important. It was a tweet saying a man with green hair had been found on the side a river that morning in Ireland. It was Jack, who had seemingly jumped off a bridge in an attempt to end his life.

He had succeeded.

* * *

Which brings us back to where we are now. There are still two days until Matt and Ryan get back, so no rush really. Gives me time to think. Like why he was so heartbroken that I reacted violently. I mean, he was the one person I knew who had always ignored hate, no matter who it came from. It really does puzzle me.

Unless...

That can't be it, can it?

I mean, he had no real reason to tell me, unless he liked me.

Right? That's not me being douchey, that's just logic. Rage is my first reaction as I make up my mind.

I lift the knife, and since I'm a wimp, stab it into my heart, rapid thoughts ceasing as my blood leaked onto the roof around me. I smiled, seeing Jack's smile shine brightly from a high platform in the sky.

* * *

Matt and Ryan found nothing out of place when they returned, except a note.

It read,

 _Hey, I'm not gonna be here when you get back, but don't worry! The house is now officially yours, and all of my possessions will be moved around appropriately._

 _And, I will see you, in the next life._

 _Buh Bye!_

Only then did they realize the missed Skype calls.


End file.
